Christmas is in the Air

by Cary Morgan-Frates

  Taking a gulp of air and reminding herself to be careful of his danglies, she reached between his legs, braced herself, and roll-hauled him out of the water and onto her. “Oof!”

  He was wet and stiff with the cold, and now, so was she. The human ice cube also had her pinned, but she heaved a sigh of relief when she felt him suck air between violent shivers. At least he was alive.

  Thank you, God.

  “Is-is that the right b-bag?” he asked.

  “What?”

  “The bag. There was a lot of garbage down there. Is t-that the one you wanted? C-cause I sure don’t want to have to go back in.”

  Audrey couldn’t help but chuckle. “There’s more than one bag down there?” she managed to ask, and then simply wrapped her arms around Mr. Gorgeous’s shoulders, lay back, and laughed.

  “Uh, I appreciate the h-humor, but unless y-you’re trying to seduce me, I c-could really use a b-blanket. B-besides, when someone tries to s-seduce someone, it should be a f-front to front thing, not front to back. T-too awkward this way.”

  Audrey continued to laugh, while tears ran down her cheeks and into her ears. Finally, when Gorgeous tried and failed to move off her, she took a few deep breaths, and said, “Your poor dog looks so confused.”

  Winston lay on deck, head on his paws, and whimpered.

  “Yeah, he’s n-not used to beautiful women s-screaming at him, or nighttime swims, or me being k-keel-hauled by same beautiful woman who’ll p-probably make me pay for her ruined clothes, too.”

  That set Audrey off again, and she laughed as he finally rolled away and gained his feet. She couldn’t help it, the tension, the despair, the worry, all in the space of a quarter hour, took their toll on her nerves, and the relief of letting go made her giddy. She rolled onto her knees as fits of giggles continued, and pushed up to stand.

  She happily watched as Gorgeous pulled on his jeans over legs that shook, with arms that also shook, then tried to zip his pants with frozen fingers.

  Much as she’d like to help . . .

  “Hey look, I’m sorry about all this,” Audrey offered with a grin as she picked up the bag and watched the water run out. “I never expected you to jump in.”

  He looked up at her, incredulous. “Are you kidding? You were about to start World War III with nukes and I was the primary target.”

  She could feel the heat of shame course through her, and dropped her eyes. “I might’ve overreacted.”

  “Ah, hell no,” he replied with sarcasm. “Those were Loumtins my dog sent overboard. Nothing trumps that.”

  She grinned at his attempt to side with her. “Louboutins. They’re Louboutins. So Kates, Rouge et Noire python, to be specific.”

  “So whatever.” He rubbed his arms, then clasped his hands under his armpits. “Nice to meet you. Glad I got them back for you, but I’m freezing, literally, so I gotta go. You can let me know what I owe you in the morning, if they look like they’re shot.”

  Oh, they were shot, for sure. Python leather and water weren’t exactly compatible. Regardless, Audrey did not want the moment to end, or the guy to walk away without at least an attempt to get to know him a little better, and maybe repay his gallantry.

  “Wait, let me get you something hot to drink . . . and a blanket. I’ll have the salon warmed up in no time,” she offered. “Please, let me make this up to you. I think I might even have some dog biscuits in the galley.”

  He stood there, shivering violently, then peeled off his mask, looked at his dog, and harrumphed. “I’m n-not really into dog biscuits, b-but okay.”

  Chapter Three

  Audrey hustled down the steps into the salon, took her shoes out of the bag, peeled off the wet protective pouches, and put them in the galley sink. She placed the uninjured scotch on the counter and tossed the wet bag into the garbage, then turned to help Gorgeous manage the steep stairs with his still-frigid limbs. He’d turned to come down backwards, and once again, all she had access to were his very fine hips.

  Hands raised and ready should he fall, she could only gaze in wonder.

  Dear God, but he’s . . . nicely put together.

  He made it without assistance, and she hurried to clear a seat and ignite the portable heater.

  “Sit here,” she said. “I’ll bring you a blanket, and then I’ll get some water to heat and bring in my stuff after that.”

  “Th – thanks,” he managed through teeth that chattered audibly.

  Audrey grabbed the wool blanket she kept stowed in the forward berth, then returned to the salon and stopped short. Obviously taking off his cold, soaking wet shirt was the correct thing to do, but she wasn’t prepared to see Mr. Gorgeous in her salon, shirtless and handsome as the day is long. Powerless to do anything but take in the sight, she did.

  He had dark, soft curls cut shorter around his face, but long enough in back to graze his collar — if he wore one. Chiseled, was the only word that came to mind, and his muscled legs were long enough to easily reach across the salon floor. He had the five o’clock shadow of a dark beard, and a dusting of dark hair on his arms and over his broad, tanned chest. The hair tapered down across his six-pack abs and disappeared in a coil at the waistband of his jeans.

  She could only stare.

  He looked up at her, and a slow grin spread across his face. Little crinkles formed at the corners of his dark, dark eyes.

  “I take it you don’t have guys in here often?”

  Audrey shut her mouth and swallowed. “What?”

  He grinned. “S-sorry about my state of undress. It just wasn’t wise to leave the wet shirt on. I’m s-showing enough signs of hypothermia as it is.”

  “Oh, sure”. Audrey flapped her hand about to distract his awareness of her gawking. “No problem. I meant to suggest that.”

  His grin broadened and she could swear his eyes danced. Did eyes really do that?

  “Maybe you should change, too.” He gestured toward her soggy, ruined clothes. “You seem . . . cold.”

  Audrey looked down and expected to see a mess, but what she didn’t expect to see was the very transparent wet silk of her blouse plastered to her lacy bra and the swell of her breasts, with the goosebumps that covered them on full display. Thank goodness the equally ruined jacket stopped her exposure from being too informative.

  “Um,” she said as she tugged her jacket together. “I’ll change in a second. I’ll just get the water on and bring my stuff down. Then I can close the hatch and it’ll warm up in here real fast.”

  “Do you m-mind if Winston comes down?” he asked. “I think he’s worried. But if you don’t want him d-down here that’s okay. He can stay on deck. Whatever you want.”

  “No problem, I don’t mind a bit.” Audrey turned on the gas and lit the fire on the stove, then filled the tea kettle and put it on the flames. “I’ll get him when I get my things.”

  Audrey made several quick trips on deck to retrieve the groceries, then grabbed her duffle bag and gently tossed it onto the couch Mr. Gorgeous didn’t occupy. She glanced at him, but he seemed preoccupied, his eyes glued to the floor in front of his feet, as though pure concentration could warm his frozen limbs. Similarly, Winston seemed preoccupied and refused to respond to her. Instead, he lay near the hatch where he could be close to his master, but refused to let her bring him inside.

  “Hey, Winston,” she crouched beside him and cringed when he shied away. “Mr. Gorgeous wants you to come downstairs.”

  Nothing.

  She sighed. “Okay, I’m gonna try gentle, but firm. How will that work for you? Just remember, I didn’t hurt you; I just yelled a lot. But don’t bite me, ’kay?”

  Audrey carefully pulled Winston to the top of the stairs, then wrapped her arms around him and started down. It was awkward, and she wobbled once or twice, but forced herself to focus on getting them both inside without injury.

  Halfway down the steps, she felt warn hands at her waist that guided her last few steps. When she reached the bottom, Mr. Gorg
eous didn’t move away, but reached around to pet his dog, instead. Sandwiched between dog and man, she noticed neither of them seemed to suffer from hypothermia anymore.

  “So, three things come to mind,” his deep voice rumbled pleasantly in her ear.

  She could hear his smile, and the double heat of embarrassment and passion flushed through her body. She stood motionless and waited.

  “First, here we are again, back to front,” he continued. “Like I said before, awkward. Second, I wanted to wait for you to get everything out of the way before I called Winston down. He’d have come on my command. You didn’t have to carry him, but I’m sure he appreciates being in your arms. And finally . . . Mr. Gorgeous?”

  Oh cripes, so busted!

  He backed up and she put Winston down before she faced him. His grin stretched from ear to ear. And he was still bare-chested. She fixed her eyes on his so they wouldn’t wander, then took a deep breath.

  “Well, you never introduced yourself.”

  “Then I guess I should be happy you didn’t refer to me as ‘that damned jerk with the effing dog.’

  Laughter bubbled up and overtook both of them, which eased the tension and brought Winston back to a happy state. As the dog hopped around, Gorgeous stuck out his hand for her to shake.

  “Mack Hargrave. Single, except for Winston, thirty-one, and available,” he smiled and raised his eyebrows.

  Audrey took his hand firmly in hers. “Audrey Wells. Same, no exceptions, thirty soon enough, and . . . same.”

  They stayed like that for a few seconds, until the tea kettle whistled and broke the moment. Audrey withdrew her hand and moved into the galley to fix two mugs of tea, then tossed a dog biscuit to Winston.

  “So, uh, here’s your tea. I’m going to change,” she said as she placed the mug next to him. She quickly grabbed the duffle bag and moved into her double berth at the rear of the boat. She shut the door and leaned against it with a moan.

  Wow. What is going on here?? Mr. . . . no, Mack is so delicious. He can’t possibly be as perfect as he seems. She glanced at the bed and groaned, then lightly banged the back of her head against the wall. Stop it. Have some standards. Get dressed.

  “Are you okay?” Mack inquired, his voice filtering in from the other side of the door instead of from across the room. “You sound like you’re in pain.”

  Busted again. “Oh, I’m fine. Almost done.” Audrey quickly peeled off her ruined clothes and pulled on sweats, fuzzy socks, and a pullover, then returned to the salon.

  Still near the door, Mack greeted her with an easy smile. He’d re-wrapped himself in the blanket, although she suspected he no longer needed the extra warmth. Winston was behind him, passed out in the middle of the floor.

  “What kind of dog is he?” She hoped she sounded casual as she moved past both of them and grabbed her mug from the galley. She installed herself where Mack had been, and Mack sat on the couch opposite.

  “English Setter. He’s just over a year old, so he’s full sized, but still a puppy at heart.”

  “Have you always had him onboard with you?” Audrey inquired. “I mean, do you live aboard, or are you on vacation? I’d love to get a dog, but I don’t think my lifestyle would mesh very well with one. He’d have to stay penned up and that’d be unfair.”

  “He’s been onboard with me since I got him, and yes, I live aboard when I’m up here, but I have a house and a yard in Corpus Christi for him to romp around in.”

  “Oh, Texas?” Disappointed, Audrey tried to keep her voice neutral. “You’re not from here?”

  “No,” Mack replied. “I grew up in San Diego. Took over the family boat building business there after college, then moved it to Texas when the economy went south and California legislators expected me to pay for every social program they could think up.”

  Audrey frowned, confused. “You build Island Packets?”

  He laughed. “No, this one’s been in the family since it was new, so it feels like home. I build custom sailboats—Hargrave Yachts—and we’ve always done high-end stuff, but I’ve recently started a line of more practical, club-style boats for people who want to get in on the lower end, financially, or for clubs that want to expand their fleet. The name is getting out there, which is kinda cool.”

  “That is cool. So, why are you in Seattle, or more precisely, Kirkland?”

  “I love it up here. I had a roommate in college from here, and couldn’t get over the scenery, the mountains, and Puget Sound, all within easy reach. It’s a great place to live if you love the outdoors, and don’t mind the weather.” Mack paused to scratch Winston’s ear, which elicited a wag of his tail. “I had the boat at Shilshole, but wanted it on the lake for the winter. Kirkland’s a nicer place to hang out when I’m in town.”

  “Do you come up often?” Audrey asked, and wished he’d decide to install himself in Kirkland permanently.

  He caught her eye, his smile warm. “I’m pretty sure I will now, as often as I can.”

  Audrey could feel a flush warm her skin and smiled back. “That’d be nice.”

  They stayed like that for a moment, then Mack cleared his throat and stood. Winston scrambled to his feet, ready for action.

  “I’m warmed up, so thank you for the tea. I’d better let you unpack and get settled,” he said. He glanced at the shoes in the sink and cringed. “I hope the shoes will be okay, but let me know. I’ll replace them if I need to. I’m glad the scotch survived.”

  Audrey took the blanket he handed her and shrugged, “Eh, don’t worry about it. Stuff happens, and, well, all’s not lost, right? I mean, I got to meet Winston, didn’t I?”

  The little crinkles reappeared at the corners of his lovely dark eyes. “Yes, you did.”

  For a moment, Audrey felt sure he would make a move, but his hesitation passed and he motioned for Winston to go up the steps. He started to follow, then paused and said over his shoulder, “Goodnight, Audrey. Sleep well.”

  Oh, she didn’t want him to go. Don’t you dare throw yourself at him. Be a lady. “Goodnight, and . . . and Merry Christmas Adam.”

  His eyebrows scrunched together. “Christmas Adam?”

  Audrey grinned. “Adam came before Eve. Tomorrow’s Christmas Eve, so today is—”

  “Christmas Adam,” he finished. Smiling, he shook his head, walked up the steps, and closed the hatch cover behind him.

  Chapter Four

  Merry Christmas Adam?

  Still groggy from a night full of blissful dreams, Audrey groaned and covered her head with her pillow. That’s the phrase she signed off with? Is she really that smooth? Why didn’t she wish him sweet dreams, or invite him to breakfast? Oh, no, she used a dopey phrase from childhood, which means him must think she’s a nut job. Her motto should be “Open mouth, insert idiot.”

  She heaved a frustrated sigh and glanced at the porthole. It was light outside, and since it was the dead of winter, that meant she’d slept in longer than anticipated. Swell.

  She threw back the covers, got up, brushed her teeth, dabbed on some mascara and eyeliner—just in case—and wrapped her shoulder-length auburn curls into a loose knot on top of her head. Winter nights onboard were downright cold, so she’d slept in the clothes she wore, which worked perfectly as her outfit for her morning routine.

  She put the tea kettle on and prepped a cup of Starbucks Via, then checked her Louboutins. They were still damp inside, but looked as though they might survive their ordeal. Unbelievable. Yeah!

  She turned up the tiny space heater, slipped on her boat shoes and a heavy jacket, and opened the hatch to a brilliant blue-sky morning.

  She went on deck, shut the hatch, then leaned back and tipped her chin skyward.

  Heaven. Did it get any better than this?

  The sound of rhythmic footfall and doggy toenails clicking alongside made her smile. She opened her eyes to see Mack and Winston on a final jog down the dock. Mack’s hair looked as though he’d just gotten out of bed, and his skin wore a sheen o
f perspiration, as though he’d just . . .

  “Hey,” she said as they drew to a stop at her boat.

  Mack grinned, took a deep breath, and looked about to respond when the tea kettle went off.

  Oh, how she loved good timing.

  “I’m just making some coffee,” she offered. “Can I offer you some? I’ve heard all the best joggers drink a cup right after their run.”

  He laughed. “Sure, I’d love one. I don’t think I qualify to be counted among the ranks of ‘best joggers’ but I’ll take the coffee anyway. How are the shoes?”

  “Eh,” she shrugged. “Too soon to tell, but I don’t hold out a lot of hope. Sorry.”

  “Hey, I’m sorry, too,” he said affably. “Just be sure to let me know. I’m good for it, I promise.”

  He climbed on board with Winston while she ducked below and made two mugs of Via. She hurried back up to find him seated behind the wheel, chin up and eyes closed, just as she’d been only moments before.

  “Beautiful, huh?” she asked, her thoughts more of him than the weather.

  He opened his gorgeous eyes and gazed at her for a second before he took the mug she held out. “Yes, breathtaking, actually. Thanks.”

  She liked what she read in those dark eyes, and wished she could just toss inhibition, decorum, and anything remotely akin to ladylike behavior, to the wind and jump on him.

  Instead, she smiled and took a sip of her coffee. “How far’d you run?”

  “Five.”

  “Holy . . . minutes or miles?” she asked, aware of her capabilities, and sure his answer would be different.

  He laughed. “Miles. Three mornings a week, rain or shine—or heat wave if I’m in Texas. I work out at a club on the off days and take Sundays off. You work out?”

  “Yes, I do Cross Fit and I swim a lot, but I don’t usually run unless a bad guy is chasing me.”